Wednesday, 31 December 2014

Naked New Year's Eve

All the limits have come off what is acceptable for breakfast since travelling in SE Asia, so today I made us a creamy mushroom soup.


Using some mushroom stock cubes that we eventually found in a shop, the rest of the soup was formed from shallots, garlic, oyster mushrooms, a little red curry paste, and enriched with coconut milk.

We barely ate for the rest of the day, as we had to be at Time for Lime restaurant for a New Year's Eve special cooking class called the Naked Chef Evening.

Time for Lime

Cooking classes take place every day at the restaurant, but for the last ten years the twist on 31st January is that the men cook for the ladies. I naively thought that the 'naked' in Naked Chef was intended as a play on the Jamie Oliver vehicle, in which (thankfully) the viewers were not subjected to any actual nudity. Wrong. The gentlemen present were requested to remove as many clothes as they desired, leaving on underpants for "reasons of hygiene".

Naked Chefs

There was a general consensus that ridding ourselves of a shirt showed willing without showing anything else we might wish to keep covered up. The chef then pulled out a bottle of brandy as an 'ice breaker' which, had she done so a few moments earlier, might have changed the amount of flesh on display.

Emboldened by our collective nudity and aware that the open kitchen meant that we were on display to the ladies in the bar, we set to work.

While a great deal of fun, the class did have an informational element as the regular lessons, owing entirely to the chef's insights into Thai cooking gleaned slowly over her many years living in Thailand.

We were told that Thais are brought up to prepare ingredients instinctively in the correct way for each dish and, therefore, to recognise when it should be eaten or left aside. Unlike European cooking, in which bay leaves and bouquets garnis are removed before serving, Thais eat around those ingredients used as flavouring only, using shape as a visual cue whether to eat them or not.

As kaffir lime leaves and lemongrass stalks are fibrous, they must be finely sliced if intended to be eaten. However, as flavouring they need only to be torn, chopped or bashed with a cleaver. The same goes for chillies and shallots.

And that shallot

With this time-saving tip for  preparing vegetables, we started work on the tom kha, which is solely about getting the balance of flavours right in the coconut soup. We prepared two versions - one with fish sauce and one without. To be honest, it was difficult to recreate the depth of flavour imparted by the fish sauce, although we did not use any soy sauce or replacement other than salt.

Other teams prepared some exotic-looking green-lipped mussels three different ways. French-style meant white wine and cream, Spanish-style was red wine, while Thai-style included all the flavours we had just been introduced to. Even when not vegetarian, mussels were not high on my list of favourite foods, but I would have taken a bowl of each of these sauces with any other ingredient.

With our part over, the table was laid with the results of our efforts and with some additional dishes more expertly prepared by the permanent chefs. These included a deliciously sweet and rich massaman curry brimming with comforting chunks of potatoes, and tofu skewers (which I skewered myself) that had been marinated in a light curry and barbecued.

Having eaten our fill of the buffet and drunk some excellent cocktails (including a superb lemongrass margarita), we segued onto one of a number of long-tailed boats waiting to take us out into the bay for midnight.

Laying back as the boat cut its engine, we drifted out into the black water and watched as glowing Chinese lanterns floated up like aerial jellyfish migrating into the night sky. They carried people's hopes for the new year ahead and released them of their worries. We cruised almost the whole 4km stretch of Khlong Dao, whose beach was ablaze with fireworks and catherine wheels. Welcome to 2015.

Tuesday, 30 December 2014

Who Moved My Cheese?

We started today with khao pad (ข้าวผัด) - a fairly traditional fried rice dish that is commonly eaten as a simple breakfast.


After this a strange urge caught us to indulge in food that we have not had in a while.

This involved eating cheesy chips, which was K's choice, and cake, which was mine. The chips were slightly disappointing as far as indulgences go, as the melted cheese was the odd American style yellow squares. This always tastes as though someone has unintentionally left the plastic wrapping on the Kraft slice.


The cake, however, was a rich slab of dense chocolate sponge with a chocolate and cashew topping. It came with the most lovingly prepared cappuccino I have ever tasted with a bear's face in the creamy foam.

We pottered around Lanta Old Town bumping into people we have got to know. Making deeper relationships with people is the reason we have chosen to stay settled in places for several weeks, but it is also a wrench when it comes to leaving. It is much easier to bid farewell to a town and its people after only a few days' stay.

Our host invited us out to dinner this evening and proposed a restaurant called Red Snapper on the far side of the island. With this suggestion she unwittingly continued the indulgence in western food. The restaurant imports foreign ingredients and creates delicious dishes served tapas style.

While SE Asian cuisine is satisfying and we have taken great pleasure in eating and cooking each nation's food, we have really missed good cheese. In an orgy of ordering hitherto unavailable treats, we splurged on a cheeseboard, tortilla di patatas, quesadilla, jalapeño croquettes, green olives, and bread with aioli. The cheeseboard was a superb trio of hard, soft and blue with salty Manchego, creamy brie, and tangy Gorgonzola. It was a feast for the senses, which we ate with great gusto, and, with a glass of red wine, it scratched the itch for western (largely Mediterranean) flavours.

After a surreal trip to a little beach-side bar, which seemed to be run and populated entirely by Brits, we returned home. The island has absorbed a number of different cultures, all of which coexist harmoniously. However, the rapid increase in tourism, which will only accelerate when a new bridge replaces the local car ferry, has changed the character of the island significantly over the past ten years.

Without checks, Ko Lanta could quickly become the next Phi Phi or Phuket. Rather than being able to absorb a different culture into its identity, I suspect the island will be unable to cope with such an imbalance in its population. With such a large seasonal and transitory shift in culture to a dominant tourist-heavy residence, the local and the visiting cultures inevitably remain separate like oil and water. The desires of the foreign tourists are met with familiar dishes, imported ingredients and tolerance of their customs, but there is little understanding on either side. With a steady trickle of more permanent foreign settlers, such as in Lanta Old Town, both cultures have a chance to mix and to form something new - each learning from the other.

Monday, 29 December 2014

Under the Stars

For the past couple of nights we have shunned the bedroom in favour of a makeshift bed on the deck facing out to sea.

Sunrise over our 'bedroom'

The weather overnight has recently been calm and temperate enough to sleep outside under the stars with only a thin sheet for cover. It is such a joy to fall asleep to the sound of the lapping waves and wake up to the light of the new day shining directly on us.

K promised to make my favourite dish this morning, but to make it extra special - a 'royal' pad thai, if you will.

Royal pad thai

'Royal' in this case meant taking the dish beyond its humble noodles and bean sprouts base, and making it rich with egg, tofu, mushrooms, cashews, and peanuts. A breakfast fit for a king.

The weather is still a little changeable and a shower gusted in this afternoon, causing us to retreat indoors and batten down the hatches. This gave us the excuse we needed to plan the next stages of our trip. This is a necessary evil, as I would rather be doing something here and now than be thinking about what I might be doing in several weeks' or months' time.

In his book The Art of Travel, Alain de Botton writes that people tend to enjoy the before and after of travel, as we often do not imagine or remember the humdrum activities that make up the bulk of the trip. The highlights that intersperse the everyday are what capture our imagination before the event and survive for the retelling afterwards. As someone with an outlook on things that tends to the pessimistic, I would add to de Botton's observations that I find I enjoy the trip more in the doing than in the planning.

Before leaping into the unknown, my mind conjures up all the ways in which things could go wrong; it points out to me the decisions I will live to regret, and the exorbitant costs that I will have to bear for the privilege of not enjoying myself. This gets me down, almost to the extent of calling the whole thing off and remaining in comfortable status quo. In fact, were it not for the irrepressible optimism and driving force of my wife, K, we certainly wouldn't be travelling round the world as we are doing.

However, having embarked on the journey as planned (be it this trip or any other), my mind settles down for the ride and observes that things aren't nearly as terrible as it had foretold. The journey is easier, the people and places friendlier, and the costs are justifiable given the experiences we are having. My mind is there to stop me from making mistakes, but it often gets in the way of enjoying itself. I certainly wouldn't be sleeping under the stars if I had listened to its naysaying.

Dinner was again, at K's request, garlic-pepper tofu with morning glory.

Sunday, 28 December 2014

Run for the Animals

Market day again this morning. We were careful no to overstock the cupboard, as we will be moving on soon, but bean sprouts were a must for pad thai.

Dat wok, dem sprouts

Owing to a misjudged purchase, we ended up with sweet soy sauce rather than the 'regular' kind. Actually, there are many kinds of soy sauce used in Asian cooking, mostly grouped around dark, light, and sweet, not to mention the all-purpose 'Maggi' seasoning sauce and Japanese shouyu used for sushi. Many dishes call for a mix of soy sauces and sweet soy sauce (siew wan, ซีอิ๊วหวาน) is used in pad siew (ผัดซีอิ๊ว), which uses wide Chinese-style rice noodles fried in soy sauce (as its name literally means). The sauce has a distinct licorice note, which worked well with the handful of aniseedy sweet basil leaves I threw in. The result was an inauthentic blend of pad thai and pad siew, but none the worse for it.

Our confusion when buying the sauce arose from not being able to read the bottle.

Sweet 'red' soy sauce

However, even if we were familiar with the Thai alphabet, we would have still been confused, as the label does not say siew wan ('sweet') it says siew daeng (ซีอิ๊วแดง), meaning 'red' soy sauce. I presume this is to contrast it to light soy sauce - called 'white' siew tao (ซีอิ๊วขาว) - and dark soy sauce - called 'black' siew dam (ซีอิ๊วดำ). However, it might also be a reference to 'red' Chinese cooking, in which meats are braised in soy sauce and sugar until caramelised. In Thailand, sweet soy sauce is used in this cuisine.

We moved the cat and her kittens out today. They were taken in by a couple who have already adopted two stray kittens. All five cats were transported the short distance down the road in a covered cage so that the mother wouldn't be able to find her way back. I didn't think for one minute that she would be fooled by this and, if she so chose, would trot right back with no problem.

Indeed, K was concerned that the cat might well return to familiar surroundings and smells as she has become used to us. I proposed that we impart our scent onto the adopting couple by rubbing ourselves on them. Of course, it would have to be the strongest scented areas of our bodies, such as underarms or groin. This didn't go down too well with anyone, so I left it. Fortunately, this wasn't required as the cat family seems to be settling in with the current residents.

It is fortunate that we found a home for the newborn kittens, as the Lanta Animal Welfare centre has no room without further expansion. Fittingly, today was the first annual charity run for the centre. We had signed up and tackled the 5km in the newly returned warm weather.

Before the run, we scarfed what was probably the least appropriate running food - the Thai equivalent of 'fish and chips'.

Roti and vegetable curry

Roti (โรตี) can be served sweet or savoury. Recently, we had noticed a Muslim café open in town and so, short on time to grab lunch, we took the opportunity to sample their roti with vegetable curry. With no other customers, the three women set to work as we placed our order - one girl stretching out the dough, another frying it into crisp pieces like tortilla chips, and the third preparing the curry. Billed as "Indian curry", the style was massaman - a yellow Thai curry that is heavy on 'Indian' spices.

The charity run started from the animal welfare centre, where runners gathered at the registration point were able to pet the cats or, in the case of one young boy, pick them up by the neck and try to stack them on top of one another. This behaviour didn't go down too well with cats or registrants, and he was lucky to walk away without serious injury from either party.


The route took us from the welfare centre along the road parallel to Long Beach and onto Khlong Dao beach for a sprint along the sand to Time for Lime restaurant - the chief sponsor of the centre.


I'm not sure of exact numbers, but I estimate there were around 70-80 walkers and runners. We all finished on the beach with a beer and a sunset, feeling that sense of elation that comes from a mix of endorphins and charitable giving. The event was a fun way to spend an afternoon/evening whether living here or just visiting on holiday.

Saturday, 27 December 2014

Lazy Lanta and a Close Call with a Bean

After a brief cool spell, the weather has returned to the hot and sticky phase that we experienced when arriving in early December.

Long-tailed boat and 'Bride of Frankenstein' hills

The sky is once again as blue as the sea is green, rather than both a nondescript grey colour. The veil of cloud over the so-called 'Bride of Frankenstein' hills - supposedly resembling a supine outline of the monster's mate - has been lifted. The cloud no longer lies low over the peaks of the national park.

National Park hills over Lanta pole houses

K took breakfast duty this morning with the store-cupboard challenge of using up a can of Carnation evaporated milk erroneously purchased thinking that it was condensed milk.


The result was a rich rice soup, much like chok, but with the added creaminess of the milk. We adorned it with bean sprouts and peanuts for crunch. Delicious.

As this is our last week on Ko Lanta before we move along the coast into Malaysian waters, we spent some time admiring the view from the deck, watching the light shift over the rocks. It is also our last day with the cat that moved her kittens into our house, as they will be adopted tomorrow by the neighbours.


In the evening, I reprised the mushroom tofu red curry we had on Christmas Eve, as it was just too tasty not to try it again. Also, I had neglected to add some festive 'nuts' that we had bought on the market.

Jering beans - caveat consumptor

Thinking they looked a lot like a kind of chestnut, possibly a water chestnut, they seemed an appropriately festive addition to the dish. Preparation instructions from the stallholder involved shelling, peeling and cooking in a curry. So far, so simple, but even after slicing into small pieces, it still took an age for the 'chestnut' to cook. A cursory web search revealed nothing about the mysterious pods. When done, it had the texture of an undercooked waxy potato and an unusual (but not unpleasant) taste.

After speaking to someone about our discovery, I learned that this was no nut, rather a kind of bean. She called them 'stinky beans', as their effects on people ingesting them were supposed to be malodorous, but despite this she enjoyed their "truffle-like" taste. She also said that in Myanmar they are fried and eaten as a beer snack.

After much searching, I found out that these are jering beans or djenkol beans, known as luk nieng (ลูกเนียง) in Thai. One website gives the following disturbing account of its supposed effects: "It has a disagreeable odor, causes bad breath, body odor smelling of urine, and sometimes gout, urinary obstruction, severe pain and acute kidney failure, mainly in men." Oh good. Well, I can report no ill effects, not even malodorousness (no more than usual, anyway). However, I might hesitate a little in future when picking up unfamiliar ingredients. Who knew being vegetarian was so fraught with peril.

Friday, 26 December 2014

Boxing Day Walk

As is traditional, we planned a walk for Boxing Day. This one involved fewer scarves and mittens and more in the way of sunglasses and swimwear. The idea was to get out of the house and burn a few of yesterday's calories from our sedentary selves. But not before taking on a few more.


I reprised the steamed egg omelettes from last week, serving them this time with toast, as we unusually had a supply of bread in the kitchen.


The National Park on Ko Lanta  takes up much of the southern and central part of the island. Its tree-covered slopes rise up behind the coastal towns and resorts. Despite its size, the portion open to visitors is a small section at the southernmost tip, encompassing a steep climb into the jungle, a beautiful stretch of sandy beach, and a lighthouse.

Baffling signs. Lassos allowed? Snake vaulting permitted?

The walk is well-paved but still offers a strenuous ascent up the side of the hill in 30° heat. The views of the bay and out to see are magnificent.


The lighthouse is situated at the southernmost point of the island and can be ascended for an even better view of the bay.

Arriving back at our starting point, we decided to grab an ice cream to cool off. We had heard about particularly bold and aggressive monkeys that attacked people carrying food, even tearing open bags and rucksacks to get to the treats within.


Indeed, the small shop was surrounded by monkeys hidden in the trees, and in some cases brazenly waiting at the entrance. Mysteriously, the camo-clad military guys tucking into lunch didn't seem to be being bothered by the sneaky simians. We, however, were stalked by a number of them upon exiting the shop. One leapt through the air and made a valiant attempt to grab the Cornetto in my hand. Having failed once, I wasn't going to give him another chance, so I bared my teeth, threw up my arms and made a sound I hoped would be interpreted as intimidating. To all around it was a ridiculous sight, but my attacker looked nonplussed and started to back away. Unfortunately, this didn't stop the others and we were soon beset by a monkey attack squad. They all looked a little wary after my performance, so I gave a repeat showing, and we made it safely to the beach to enjoy the ice creams in (relative) peace, followed by a dip in the sea.

In the evening, we assembled the spread that we had intended to eat yesterday before gluttony got the better of us.


The spread covered all the major food groups - fried, deep-fried, devilled, and raw. The highlight was Thai-style arancini - sticky rice mixed with curry paste, formed into a ball, breaded and deep fried. I made half with red and half with green curry paste. The green were by far the spicier. These were joined by fried tofu with a satay dip, devilled eggs, while crudités of cucumber, carrot and pineapple provided a much needed palate freshener.

Thursday, 25 December 2014

Get Dressed Ye Merry Gentleman

Christmas Day is upon us! It felt very odd to wake up this morning to a typical Thai Thursday. This is the only Christmas I have spent outside of England and the day was a mix of Thai and traditional influences. We started with a selection of breakfast treats - mostly sticky rice topped with coconut, mango, sweet omelette, or palm sugar, and some sesame sweet potato balls.

Possibly the world's largest moka pot

Continuing the Thai theme, we took the opportunity to have a mid-morning massage. This was a luxurious way to kick-off the celebrations.

Suitably flexed and tenderised, the feasting began in earnest. Christmas lunch is a special time outside of time (a bit like waiting for an international flight), when it is perfectly acceptable to have a sherry or open the red wine at 11:45. Today's preparations afforded me the perfect excuse to do my best Keith Floyd impression.

The resemblance is uncanny

Asian kitchens are usually simply equipped with a couple of hobs (often portable) and a rice cooker. Ovens are rarely seen as they use a great deal more energy to cook the food. This has informed the cuisine, in which much is steamed, boiled, or fried, but Christmas simply wouldn't be the same without roast potatoes. Thoughtfully, our host had delivered us a small electric oven and so our wish was granted. Our kitchen is so well stocked, we even have a gravy boat.

Wot, no sprouts?

We kept Christmas dinner traditional - at least as traditional as a vegetarian nut roast can get. As is even more traditional, we made much more food than strictly necessary and it was served up far later than intended. Of course, some of the time might have been lost to stroking a cat.

Now wash your hands

The heroic quantities of roast potatoes were sublime and the roast of mushrooms, cashews, peanuts, and tofu was rich and meaty in texture. Add broccoli, carrots and sweet potato mash and we had a feast for the 5000. Sadly, 4998 of them had failed to show up, so we rolled, fat and happy, onto the sofa.

But gout-fest didn't stop there. The requisite intermission was filled by my inauguration into the club of Dirty Dancing - greater social commentary on class equality, male chauvinism, abortion rights, and a society on the cusp of change than I had any right to expect given the film's billing as hen night fluff. Similarly, dessert was weightier than the light mousse we probably should have enjoyed.

Served in a tin mug? You hipster

Failing the ingredients for a proper plum duff, I made a bread pudding with coconut milk and bananas. The result was like the richest brioche I have ever eaten and sat, leaden, in my stomach. But it was so delicious. However, we had no appetite for any form of Christmas tea, so instead we filled our evening groaning on the sofa, greeting family by Skype, and listening to the final episode(s) of John Finnemore's brillant Cabin Pressure. Thanks Auntie.

Wednesday, 24 December 2014

Santa Paws Comes to Old Town

Our plan this Christmas Eve morning was to breakfast on one of the stalls that sets up early to serve the local community. Despite an early rise, it was still well past 9 o'clock by the time we left the house, and all the breakfast 'shops' were deserted.


Our alternative was to breakfast at one of the establishments on the waterfront. Beautiful Restaurant is, as its name suggests, one of the nicest of such places and offered us a wonderful view. K and I chose our favourites - clear noodle soup and pad thai, respectively.

Old Town looks much the same at Christmas time as during the rest of the year. The odd shop has a piece of tinsel or a tiny Christmas tree, but there are few concessions to the Christian holiday on this side of the island. Bizarrely, the 7-Eleven has decorated its frontage with some disturbing images, presumably sent from head office to all branches.


There is also an upsetting Christmas cake in the 7-Eleven, more on which later. However, what it doesn't stock are decorations. As a result, we have had to improvise a centrepiece out of shells collected from Ko Por beach and a candle.


The result of living in a house that is open to the elements is that the local wildlife often pops in. Geckos and lizards are frequent visitors, a bat flew into our bedroom the other day, and even a crab marched through the front door. Today however, we had a different kind of guest.


Since our arrival, we have seen and stroked a grey-and-white cat that hangs around outside our house and which wears a pink collar that ironically labels her as 'Dog'. When we first saw her, it was clear that she was pregnant, but recently she has had a less pronounced waddle and her stomach has not been so distended.

After returning from breakfast, we noticed the cat emerge from a cupboard. Upon investigating, we discovered four fluffy little kittens.


Unsure whether the kittens had been born there or been brought in by the mother, it was still about the least appropriate place to nurse them - a darkened corner of the cupboard under the stairs full of bleach and rat poison. Still, this was the spot she had chosen and we weren't about to argue. However, we went in search of the owner, only to discover that the collar had been attached by our next-door neighbour because "it looks pretty". With no owner in the frame, the cat family had nowhere else to go for Christmas.

It was the best of presents, it was the worst of presents. Having cats for Christmas was a wonderful gift, but we had to consider that we are due to leave Ko Lanta and Thailand in a week's time.

Our only options, aside from turfing mother and kittens back onto the street, was to give them to the already vastly oversubscribed Lanta Animal Welfare centre or to see whether someone local would be willing to adopt them.

Fortunately, some friends we have made nearby have already taken in two stray kittens and are amenable to further feline friends. In the meantime, we had our own nativity in the cupboard under the stairs.


Dinner was a festive display of red curry with green beans. The curry was mouth-wateringly moreish with shiitake and cep mushrooms, tofu and baby Thai aubergines.


For a dessert treat, we tucked into a miniscule cake decorated with Santa's face arranged out of apricot jam and strangely tasteless cream with a beard of hundreds and thousands. The remainder of the cake was largely synthetic sponge and pink calorific air - a suitable confection for Christmas Eve.

Tuesday, 23 December 2014

Shanks' Pony

While K met her running partner for a quick 5k at 7 o'clock this morning, I lay indolently in bed, before feeling guilty, getting up, and making breakfast.

Pineapple cucumber salad

I say "made", what I mean is "got the leftovers out of the fridge". On second thoughts, the som tam was looking a little sad and there wasn't much laab 'left over', as we had greedily wolfed most of it down on Sunday. So, I freshened the papaya salad and made a pineapple, cucumber, tomato, mint salad to accompany it.

Banana mint smoothie

With a bunch of fresh mint, the meal suddenly became a celebration of the cooling herb, including this magnificent mint-banana-coconut smoothie.

Once again facing a shortage of tofu, and having been told on good authority that none existed in the village, we decided to widen our search net.

We used our search as an excuse to tackle the steep path across the island to Khlong Nin beach, where the roving market takes place every Tuesday. This involved a 20k roundtrip and quite an incline up the hill at the centre of the island, with which mopeds struggle. Announcing our plan to one of the shop owners in the village, she offered to loan us her moped, as the route was too long to walk. We politely declined, making the excuse of 'getting some exercise' and, passing through tiny villages and along monkey-filled jungle, we eventually made it to the market. We swiped a bag of tofu while the stallholders were still setting up and then moved on.

Khlong Nin

A few steps away from the market is Khlong Nin beach (หาดคลองนิน), which takes its name from the nearby natural canal (khlong means canal). The weather has been cloudy and showery of late, which has been poor for Christmas tourism to the island, as people seek to escape to winter sun. Today was no exception, but the weather stayed dry for our inter-coastal walk, and it was the temperature of a pleasant English summer's day.

Still, a shower rushed in as we arrived at the beach, so we sheltered in the first establishment we found on the less developed stretch of beach. Not our usual choice, it was a reggae café. It was the kind of place where people strike up on the didgeridoo and djembe. Indeed, while we there just such a jam occurred, only the didgeridoo was coiled into a spiral, like a furled up snake. As a tuba is to the alpenhorn, this instrument is to the straight aboriginal pipe.

A roti stand just behind the beach brought us a mid-afternoon sugar injection. This stall offered a slight twist on the Muslim 'pancakes', in that they were coloured and flavoured with pandan. The pandanus leaf is often used in Asian confectionary and imparts a green colour and aromatic scent. It can also be used in steaming rice. I once offered some green cakes to people in the UK, but the name of the additional ingredient put most of them off, sounding a little too much like "panda anus" for some to stomach.

Pandan roti

Unlike the banana roti we tried the other day, which was dripping with butter and condensed milk, this version was light and crisp, filled with salty toasted cashews, complementing the sweet chocolate sauce on top. It powered us through the walk back.


At home, K had dominion over the kitchen and made us a feast of mushroom salad, Thai basil omelette, rice and garlicky morning glory. The salad used shredded oyster mushrooms we picked up this morning, alongside choi sum, beansprouts, and cucumber. It was fabulously chewy, crunchy and flavoursome.

Monday, 22 December 2014

Solstice

K took control of the kitchen again this morning to make us a spicy tom kha (ต้มข่า) for breakfast. This coconut soup had cubes of tofu and pumpkin spiced up with lemongrass, chillies, kaffir limes, and garlic. With sticky rice on the side, over which I ladled the rich and zingy broth, it was a filling and comforting meal, and one I could imagine craving when at home ill.


Technically the winter solstice happened yesterday (21st December) Greenwich Mean Time, but owing to time differences, the exact moment of the event occurred this morning at 06:03 in Thailand.

The winter solstice marks the shortest day of the year in the northern hemisphere, after which the days get longer and the mornings and evening brighter. This is very noticeable in England, which yesterday saw only approximately 8 hours of daylight (roughly between 8AM and 4PM). At the height of summer, in late June, the country enjoyed almost 17 hours of straight daylight (from before 5AM until after 9PM. That's a huge difference and must in part account for the seasonal swings in people's moods.

Contrast Ko Lanta, which is just narrowly above the Earth's equator at around 7°N (versus London's 51.5°). At this latitude, the observed  fluctuations in the Sun's path are minimal and the day length stays fairly constant, varying only by an hour between today's 11.5 hour day (sun up around 6:30AM and down after 6PM) and the 12.5 hour longest day in June (when sunrise is closer to 6AM and the sun does not setting again until nearly 7PM). I imagine this allows the Thais to get into a constant rhythm of 'early to bed, early to rise', which is not disrupted by shifting daylight patterns. Perhaps this is why Thailand is the land of smiles.

I have often thought that people should alter their behaviour according to the available natural light, but this becomes unsustainable at the extremes. In places such as northern Canada and Iceland, this would mean that people would barely leave the house for certain parts of the year. In fact, speaking to a Canadian recently, she told us that there is a booming industry in 'sunlight' bulbs. Of course, she now lives in Phuket.

With a dearth of tofu once again afflicting our fridge, I had to find other ingredients for tonight's pad kra prow (ผัดกระเพรา) - literally meaning 'stir-fried basil'. I used some magnificently meaty cep mushrooms we picked up at the market.


I stir-fried the mushrooms, morning glory, and blanched broccoli florets in a slightly sweet soy sauce with crushed garlic and red chillies. Knowing that 'kra prow' indicates that holy basil should be used, but having only sweet basil (horapha, โหระพา), I must have subconsciously left the herb out until after having taken the photo. Unlike sweet Basil's aniseed flavour, holy basil is much more peppery in taste. Still, the meal was tastier than this substitution or the poor photo would suggest.

Sato - Thai rice wine

We picked up a bottle of Thai rice wine, known as sato (สาโท). This is the base for the distilled liquor lao khao, but at 8% ABV makes a delightful drink on its own. Chilled, it is like a particularly floral white wine with ricey notes reminiscent of sake. It is rather sweet and is standing in this Christmas for the usual pale cream sherry that would be our regular tipple.

Sunday, 21 December 2014

A Paucity of Beer

More yummy pad thai for breakfast this morning. I could very possibly eat this every day.


After yesterday's exertions in the kayak, we planned a quieter day today. The only item on our schedule was a Skype chat and 'simuldrink' with some friends from the UK.


For the event, we bought in a selection of Thailand's finest beers - a lager every one. Unlike Cambodia's apparent predilection for strong stouts, the Thais seem to like to keep things a lighter shade.

I discovered only too late that craft beer has recently taken off in Bangkok. Mikkeller Bangkok opened its doors earlier this year and offer a bar and bottle shop to the lucky people of the capital. In addition to the Danish contingent (Mikkeller, To Øl), there is representation from geographically proximate breweries such as New Zealand's excellent 8 Wired.

I also noted that Wishbeer and Mikkeller Bangkok deliver bottles the same day within central Bangkok. It takes a few days to ship the beer within the rest of Thailand. Sadly, the cost of imported craft beer is not compatible with our travelling budget and the lead time was anyway too long to get quaffing this evening.

So, we made do with the largely flavour-free Thai lagers, while our UK drinking friends supped dark porters and spiced saisons. Thankfully the quality of conversation more then made up for the paucity of flavour in our beers, and we chatted for a couple of hours as though there weren't over 6000 miles between us.

Having sampled the Thai beers side by side, I have a created my personal ordering over them:
1. Chang Classic (6%) - firmly established as my favourite Thai beer, the Classic version has a relatively malty body for the style, and manages to balance sweet and dry. I haven't tried the Export or Draught versions (both 5%).
2. Cheers X-tra (6.5%) - first time for this terribly named beer. The malts are a little out of control, but at least it marks it out from the other identikit Asian lagers.
3. Singha (5%) - a decent dry lager, but nothing hugely exciting. I certainly didn't pick up any hoppy flavours.
4. Leo (5%) - this has the kind of sharp, metallic taste I dislike in lagers and puts me off. With enough ice, this is drinkable.
5. Archa (4.9%) - tastes exactly like a thin, cheap lager whose recipe skimps on ingredients that lift it from just being yellow water.

K had taken the initiative and prepared us some food for our drinking session.


She served a frankly triumphant som tam, far surpassing my humble attempts, and a flavoursome tofu laab with sticky rice. We both concluded that the laab would benefit from pounding the lemongrass rather than chopping it in the blender. This helps break down the fibrous stalks and release the oils. Both dishes were a perfect foil to the bland liquid accompaniment.

Saturday, 20 December 2014

Konquering Ko Por by Kayak

While K was out for a run this morning, I fried some rice for breakfast. Taking the spirit of pineapple fried rice (khao phad sapparot, ข้าวผัดสับปะรด), I combined diced tofu, boiled eggs, cucumber, cashews and, of course, pineapple with cooked rice. Flavouring with yellow curry paste and soy sauce resulted in a slightly-spicier-than-intended breakfast that warmed us through. Growing tired of photographing anonymous mounds of rice, I went all Joan Miró on the presentation with a wedge of pineapple and a cashew nut.

Pinya i Ocell

If yesterday's cycle ride was a work-out for the legs, today was about the upper body. We hired a kayak from the same couple as lent us the bicycles and paddled out to the nearest island, Ko Por.


Despite being in the Andaman Sea, the water is fairly calm surrounding Ko Lanta, as it is sheltered by a number of islands (one of these being Ko Por). Clad in orange lifejackets, we descended from the deck of the house into the awaiting kayak, which was bobbing in the water. The tide was in, which made things easy, but we knew it would be out when we returned, as high tide wouldn't occur until after dark.

The journey out was a relaxed affair, taking a leisurely 45 minutes to cover the 3km. Ko Por is home to a small Muslim community, mostly housed on the far side of the island. There is a pier on coast closest to Ko Lanta, but we aimed instead for the deserted beach at the north end, which is covered in shells of one kind or another.

Things that look like faces #58

After relaxing on the shell-strewn beach and taking a dip, we felt a little indolent. If we only paddled here and back, we would feel ad though we had barely been in the kayak. We resolved to circumnavigate the island and arrive back at the pier.

Setting off in a clockwise direction, we soon discovered that the surrounding waters are shallow. We gave the island a wide berth, bit still ran into a dense patch of rocks lurking below the surface. Heading farther out, with Ko Bubu on our left, we soon made the rear side of the island and spied the fishing village, replete with pole houses similar to those in Old Town.

The sense of adventure and discovery at powering our own way around the island was thrilling, especially as a flock of ibis (recognisable by their distinctive long beaks) took off over our heads. However, as we rounded the next corner, which we hoped would bring us back to the pier, we found our journey lengthened by an unexpected peninsula on the south of the island.

To compound matters, we were now facing the open sea and, without the sheltering effects of the island, the going was tough. For every stroke, we seemed to be drifting, but this was illusory. We were making slow but sure progress, inching our way to the farthest point of the island. The ominously darkening skies behind us gave us the impetus to carry on.

Once around the tip, the water reverted to a millpond and we sat back, enjoying the tailwind working to our advantage. We soon reached the pier, after about a 6.5km circumnavigation, alighted, and explored the island on foot.

The local community is similar to Lanta Old Town was before the massive influence of tourism on the island. There are no restaurants, cafés or bars, although some people grill and serve food from the porch of their houses. Being still full from breakfast, we took our leave and set off back to Ko Lanta.

Another minor drama threatened to unfold as the storm we had been aware of earlier finally caught up with us. The wind whipped the gently rippling surface into undulating waves, and the rain settled in. Fortunately, the gusts only served to speed us to our destination and the shower didn't resolve into a full downpour.

As predicted, the tide was far from the pole houses, so we had to lug the heavy kayak across the muddy, stone-ridden bank. Returning triumphant, however, was all we needed.


Garlic pepper tofu has become a request dish in our house. K requested that we reprise the meal from last week, and who was I to deny her after a gruelling 12 or 13km sea-borne adventure.